Keri nodded and continued. 'Right. We know that the people who chased Jina were highly "respected" art thieves -humans who would stop at nothing to get what they wanted. They could then sell it on the black market. A unique object as powerful as the Diadem - if the legends were true - would be worth, oh, incalculable millions of credits. One of the thieves died in the chase but the other two just vanished after her death. So did Alec. Shortly before I came on this a.s.signment I did a trace on Alexander Charles Roberts - Alec. I could find no trace of him. No bank account, no ship registration, no hotel on Pakha. Nothing. He didn't exist.'

'You think Alec was behind Jina's death? But she loved him - she told me on the net loads of times' Kort frowned. I mean, he seemed so nice, going by what Jina said.'

'Yes, he did. Too nice in retrospect,' said Keri.

Kort sat in silence for a moment. Then he got up. 'We need to check out this Hyn't'n character.'

Keri nodded. 'But how? We need access to a Federation computer net, and there isn't one on Peladon. Believe me, I've looked.'

'Ah, but not,' Kort announced excitedly, n the Martian shuttle.'

'Have you got Savaar's access codes? His commands or anything, yeah?'

Kort laughed. 'We make a good team, Keri. You do the research. And I? I just hack computers. The Federation hasn't developed a system I can't slice wide open!' Moments later they slipped out of Keri's room and towards the caverns leading to the hanger deck.

Behind them, a pair of eyes blinked. He rubbed his ears - they felt as if they were almost burning. Mind you, pressed that hard against Keri's door, he was surprised they hadn't got friction burns.

So, Holmes and Watson were off to the hanger deck. Scarlett and Rhett were off to the catacombs while someone else was hiding in secret pa.s.sageways. Oh well, it was time to get back to Laurel and Hardy and see how they were doing.

Neal Corry was at a loss. Not something he was too familiar with. As the ever-present chief executive and senior producer at GFTV-3, he was accustomed to being busy and fussy. Administering this piece of advice, disciplining that error, arranging some transport. Here on Peladon, he was very much in the hands of his Pakha crew - led by the delightful and highly sought-after Keri. Three other stations had offered enormous amounts of credits to purchase her services. Enough credits in fact for Corry to disband GFTV-3 altogether and have a very lucrative retirement. Apart from the redundancies that would cause -and bad feeling - Corry knew he'd get bored. Even if he kept GFTV-3 going, without its star news anchor, they'd quickly lose out to the ever-growing Butler-Straker corporation or the ever-present CNN news networks.

Corry enjoyed his job - he liked providing entertainment to the ma.s.ses and they quite liked what he provided. A perfect symbiosis. Still, he couldn't work out why he felt it entirely necessary to come to Peladon himself. He a.s.sumed it was the urge to witness at first hand the dying breed that was royal occasions. Most planets were oligarchical but Peladon still kept all those fine trappings, pomp and ceremony that Earth had once had. All that plus the fact that Pakha was getting a bit overcrowded at the moment. His surrogate home was getting a little too tourist-infested right now. The silly season was upon them and he'd decided to get away. A busman's holiday, they used to call it.

Well, here he was. Fifty-ish, balding and slightly overweight. Alone and lonely. Oh, he put a brave face on it, buried it beneath a kind of bizarre jocular bonhomie but underneath everything, Corry was sad. At his age, he was unlikely to ever find the constant companionship he sought and was resigned to that, but even the casual acquaintances, one-night stands and such all belonged in a younger period, not now. Now he was expected to carry on his life in a rather strict, presentable manner. Fifty-seven and over the hill. b.l.o.o.d.y typical.

His reverie was interrupted when he realized he'd wandered far too deep into the ma.s.sive black-rock caverns. He'd lost his bearings.

He knew he was going downwards, but how many levels? Surely before long he'd come to some kind of sign. Maybe the entrance to one of the old trisilicate mines or something. He was just about to give up and try retracing his steps when a loud metallic clang echoed throughout the cavern ahead.

'h.e.l.lo? Who's there?' No reply.

'Hi? It's only Neal Corry. From the vid company. I'm lost, I'm afraid. Can you help me?' Still no reply.

He ventured further into the cavern. It was much darker but very soon he noticed deep scarring on the rocks. The mine workings. Where Geban's family used to work. Now, there must be some kind of sign-posting.

He wandered on for another few minutes. It reminded him of one of his earliest a.s.signments as a fledgling journalist. He and a holovid operator named Jaim Geha.s.sig. They'd gone to the planet Voga, a deserted asteroid that had once housed a glorious but ultimately self-destructive race of gold worshippers. It was during the famous Cyber-fad. After records proved that both Telos and New Mondas had been destroyed and the legendary Cybermen eradicated for good, a ma.s.sive hysteria overtook the rich, the famous and the couch potatoes who watched the newscasts.

Finding the pieces to try and build a total picture of the Cybermen and their ascendancy from humanity. Voga, it had been historically noted, was instrumental in the mid-twenty-hundreds as a force against the Cybermen, exposing their weakness toward gold. Corry and Geha.s.sig had been sent to explore the planet and examine the ruined cities deep within its hollow interior.

There they had spent a fruitful five days, exploring, examining and recording. At one point Geha.s.sig had got lost in one of the catacombs and Corry had trekked throughout the night to find him. Eventually they met up again -merely a hundred yards from their camp. They hadn't realized that the Vogan chambers were built as concentric circles and so one always got back to one's starting point eventually. Jaim Geha.s.sig . . .

That was then. Somehow Corry doubted that Pel mines were circular. More like a spider's web - loads of different strands. Seen as a cross-section it probably made sense. As a lonesome fly caught in the strands, Corry was beginning to panic. What had caused that noise? He rounded a corridor and almost tripped over. He looked down at what had caused his stagger.

An overturned wooden barrow, its one wheel chipped and broken. Beside it, a rusty shovel. Thick rust. It had been a long time since anyone had been down here. Yet that noise came from the direction he was walking in.

Could it have just been his imagination? It got very dark in the distance but he could see clearly for another few meters or so. No harm in going on now.

He rounded another slight bend and almost yelped with joy. Facing him was a large window, bright lights behind it. The gla.s.s was frosted, but he could clearly see someone inside. A metal door was built into the rock beside it. Above it, worn away but legible, was the word REFINERY.

Of course - the door. That must have made the noise as it was closed by whoever was inside. It briefly occurred to Corry that no one ought to have been down here, certainly in a Federation structure. And if they were Federation, he would certainly have known about it.

'Hey! You in there?' he called to the shapes. The light went out. Oh don't be b.l.o.o.d.y stupid, it's Neal Corry. I know you're in there!' Corry reached out and grasped the large door handle. The second he touched it his head seemed to explode. Millions of bright lights and thousands of loud screams tore into his brain. He wanted to scream. To cry out. But his brain wouldn't respond, it was busy being tortured.

In his last few seconds before a blissful final darkness swallowed him up, Corry fell to his knees. He imagined he could see that holo operator Jaim, reaching out to him.

Not as he'd been on Voga, but a few years older, as he'd been at their bitter parting, full of recriminations and arguments, professional and personal. But Jaim had a big grin on his face - that marvellous grin he'd had on Voga after they'd found each other. That marvellous grin that always told Neal Corry that everything was going to be all right.

Half a second later Neal Corry slumped to the dusty ground - sightless eyes staring up at nothing, a twisted smile on his lips.

Behind him the refinery door slowly opened and someone came out and dragged his still body inside.

It was as if he'd never been there.

The Doctor braced himself and barged through the relic room door as if he owned the place.

'You were a long time,' observed an unusually laconic Sskeet.

I had trouble finding anywhere to get a drink from. The coffee pot in the Federation Representatives' room was cold.'

Savaar was crouching by the chalk outline of the body. 'Doctor, I have examined this marking. I have examined the floor all around it. I have played your enigmatic, if childish game. As you no doubt expected I am forced to confess I cannot find what it is you claimed was so unusual.

There is nothing to be found.'

The Doctor dropped cross-legged to the floor beside him. He leant across the outline, dug a hand into a pocket of his jacket which was still draped over the chair, and produced a red apple. He offered a bite to Savaar who merely flicked his tongue in an expression of contained disdain. The Doctor shrugged. An apple a day keeps you-know-who away!' he said and noisily crunched into it. With mouth full of apple he spoke, gesticulating as he rolled his short sleeves up.

'You see, High Lord Savaar, this chalk outline is very important on two counts.' He produced the piece of chalk he'd had when Savaar first entered. 'First, this chalk. It's not natural to Peladon. So why was it on the floor?'

'Presumably the rather clumsy Pel guard who drew the outline dropped it: The Doctor held up a finger. 'Ah, normally I would agree. Except.' He rustled in another pocket and triumphantly produced a second stick of chalk. except this one is the chalk used to draw the outline of the poor man's body. I got it from the "rather clumsy Pel guard" while I was refreshment-hunting.' He popped it back into his pocket and brandished the original stick at Savaar. 'So. Why is there non-Pel chalk lying on the floor?'

'Does it matter?' asked Sskeet.

The Doctor looked hurt. 'Well yes, I rather think it does.'

'Why?'

'Ah. I don't know yet, but as soon as I do, you'll be the second to know.'

'Who will be the first?' asked Sskeet, barely containing his impatience.

'Me. The. Doctor looked across at the impa.s.sive Sskeet and back to an even more impa.s.sive Savaar. Okay, well, let's leave Mister Chalk for the moment. Instead, let's look at the body.'

It isn't here any longer, Doctor.' Savaar stood up.

'No, but a.s.suming that our "clumsy Pel guard" in fact did do his job properly, it is represented by this outline. Now, gentlemen, I bring your attention to the position our poor unfortunate is in.'

The Doctor stood up and tried to mimic the position. Head turned to the left.

Right arm pointing up, left folded across the chest - therefore under the body. He put one leg at an angle and placed his foot on his shin.

'Basically, that's how he fell. Now, we know from the "clumsy Pel guard" . .

'Yes, all right, Doctor, you have made your point about the guard. I retract my suggestion that he was anything other than professional and conscientious in the execution of his duty. Now, will you please come to the point?' Savaar was getting more heated. The Doctor grinned slightly at this fact. He didn't know if Bernice had managed to find his breaking point the previous night, but he was certainly getting close. Perhaps dangerously close. Time to back off slightly, Doctor? Of course not.

'So, High Lord, what we have is a man stabbed through the back but not out of the front. He then fell flat on his face, dead.'

Indeed.'

In which case I have two questions. Firstly, most importantly in fact, is why?' The Doctor a.s.sumed a more traditional posture. He stood at the chalk outline's feet. 'He was standing here, apparently looking at. . .' The Doctor stared directly ahead. a.s.suming Mister Corry and his video team did not disturb anything at all, he was looking at the chair that my coat is now on. Hmm, quite an important motive I'd say.' He dropped into a Humphrey Bogart voice. 'Here's lookin' at chairs, kid.'

'The point, Doctor, the point?'

'The point is, Lord Savaar, that I don't think that our man was standing here when he died at all. I think the murderer placed him here afterwards to make us look in the wrong place. In which case, where should we look?

This is a big room.'

Hidden behind his helmet, Savaar raised his eyes heavenwards. Amaze me further, Doctor. It is obvious you already know where he was standing.'

Again, the Doctor's index finger went up. 'Ah ha!' He bounded forward and went round two or three trophy cabinets in a somewhat exaggerated manner. He was enjoying making a meal of his dramatic act. He stopped in front of a shield, sword and helmet.

'Here, Lord Savaar. Here is where he was standing. Whatever he was murdered for was on that wall in front of me.'

Savaar wandered over and stared at the sword, shield and helmet. He read the placard: 'Traditional hunting equipment.' He looked at the Doctor. I believe the human phrase is "Big deal. So what?" '

It's wrong. This gear should be in that empty trophy case over there. Up here should be something called The Lance of Aggedor. It is the Pels' most sacred relic. Their equivalent of the Crown Jewels, or the Grand Marshal's Staff.'

If the theft of the Lance was the motive, it was foolhardy. The murderer and thief would have known it would have been noted as soon as Atissa or Nic Reece entered this room.'

'Yes, well, I rather think that our killer was banking on neither of them being around for a while. Reece is currently engaging my a.s.sociate on a guided tour of the caverns and Atissa is probably in her sacred Temple of Aggedor, praying for this unfortunate old man's soul.'

A waste of time,' Savaar said.

Oh, maybe. However, it is important to Atissa, and to Aggedor's many believers. I wonder if the Lance is still on Peladon?'

'No one has left the planet, have they Sskeet?'

'No, my Lord. Just a few unmanned skimmers containing the holovids that Corry's team have made: As Sskeet spoke, he realized what he had said.

It might have been an idea to impound them and stop anything at all taking off, Savaar,' chided the Doctor.

'Sskeet, contact Hissel. If those skimmers are still in the area, he is to blow them out of the sky.'

I think,' said the Doctor, 'that defeats the object. Firstly, I doubt our murderer is aboard - there's still too much here worth stealing. Secondly, if you blow the Lance up, I don't think the Pels will thank you. It is used as part of the restatement vows ceremony.'

'Your suggestion, Doctor?' The Doctor crossed back to the chair and put his jacket back on. 'Give our man enough rope and he'll hang himself.

Sometime during the lead up to the ceremony, he'll use the hustle-bustle to remove a few more choice items.'

'Why? It's not as if someone can buy them and display them. They are unique and easily traceable.'

'Exactly. I once had this conversation with a detective about a very famous but quite bad painting on Earth. Even if the collector cannot display it, just knowing they have it is enough. Greed, Lord Savaar, is the most potent motive for murder in the galaxy. It always has been and always will be.'

As they turned to leave, Sskeet stopped. 'Doctor. How did you know the body had been moved?' The Doctor smiled. 'That was easy. As the body was moved, it splashed blood on the spot around where the murder occurred. Elementary, my dear Sskeet!' They closed the door behind them.

As the Ice Warriors walked ahead of him, the Doctor paused for breath.

That was Laurel and Hardy dealt with. What about Holmes and Watson?

Getting on to the Martian ship did not prove a problem. The pilot had left it locked and wandered off for refreshment. Keri produced her data-pad and placed its magnetic side against the comm-lock. She pressed a stud and a hologram of the comm-lock appeared. 'Handy trick I picked up on one of the frontier worlds. A master criminal showed me how to do this while I was undercover.'

'What happened to him?' breathed Kort.

'He got arrested and tried for housebreaking using this system. He never told anyone I had this, though. Honour amongst thieves and all that.' She pressed a couple of studs and a series of codes flashed across the hologram. After a few seconds it flashed and vanished. 'Did you note the numbers?' Keri asked.

'What numbers?' asked Kort.

Keri smiled and pressed a series of numbers on the comm-lock. 'Have to be quick, yeah!' The door silently slid open and after they went in, slid closed.

They were on the flight deck.

Seconds later Kort had located the computer input. He ran the first finger of his right hand down the small rectangle of microcircuits embedded in his temple.

Keri frowned. Implants?'

'Sort of. My own design. Far better than the standard ones you can buy or even the ones home-made by cybers.p.a.ce zapp-heads. Instant access to everyone and everything on the Fed-Net and quite a few others.' He grinned broadly. 'But don't tell my father, he thinks it's a basic plant just for me. And Jina.' He sat back in the pilot's chair, breathed deeply and quietly spoke some letters and commands.

'DMKT dash Slicer 4 dash to dash Access stroke Access.'

The computer replied: 'Pa.s.sword?' 'DMKT dash Slicer 4 dash infinite dash PSWD stroke Access.'

'Access accepted DIET dash Slicer 4.'

Keri yelped in delight. 'Well done, yeah!'

Kort rubbed his hands. Okay, computer. Try this. Search. Pakha, Male.

Hyn't'n. Fed Research. All parameters.' There was a pause. It'll take a second or two.'

'Located. More?'

'Yes please: 'Hyn't'n. Resident of Pakha. Criminal record. Access E13P only. I'm sorry'

'What the cruk does that all mean?' asked Keri.

'Basically,' replied Kort, ur little man has a criminal record longer than Centauri's six arms strung together. I'll have to slice into the Pakha system now. Okay, here goes. Computer: Access DMKT dash infinite dash Pakha Criminal Records dash Locate Hyn't'n.'

There was another, longer, pause as the computer found the information.

Then it began reading out a long list of petty crimes in and around the Pakha homeworld and satellites. After a few moments reading the two hackers sat back.